Page 209 - The Legacy of Abraham Rothstein - text

Old age and the future

possessed. Books are all right to read, to study, and be entertained by,
but common sense is of greater value in life’s journey. I was
emotional, she was practical, and the result was arguments and hard
feelings. I have lived in the New World for fifty years and never
shook off the influence of my mother’s way of living in the old
country. Only lately have I learned how housework is drudgery, and
one is a slave to pot and pan. I now feel guilty of being rude and
inconsiderate to Fannie, a good wife who overlooked many faults of
mine as we struggled together on our life’s journey.
Nothing exceeds the joy and happiness of being a grandparent.
Whenever my wife suggested going out, as on a Sunday or holiday,
my proposition was to go to Hilda or Carmel and see the
grandchildren. “Abe,” she would say with anger, “you were there
yesterday. Why go again? You bore them, you tease them, and you
think they laugh at your jokes. They don’t care if you do not come
for a month. Why run there all the time? Can’t we go see some
friends or a show?” Many an argument was brought about by this
problem. I never coddled my grandchildren; very seldom did I kiss
them. Nursing and inspiring their minds to develop and grow was my
expression of love for them. I can understand now why they do not
show much affection for me.

January 25, 1957: already several years have passed since I wrote
down my records of the distant past. Writing, to one who has not the
training and did not absorb the language when young and in school,
is not pleasant work but a painful process. An idea is just a flash of
the mind, a picture of past experience. To present it requires a good
amount of work so that others can comprehend it. To find the right
words and grammar, to compose a readable paragraph is the most
painful thing for one not educated. I have written a hundred pages of
records and suffered for every line, but the occupation gave me a
refuge from boredom—I do not expect to make a literary document.
I feel thankful to my granddaughter Judy, who gave me the idea of
modeling in clay, an idea which aroused in my mind more ideas and
created the will to carve and sculpt. That kind of occupation is not all
pleasure; a lot of physical energy, patience, and concentrated mental
observation at all times is required. My sculpture is a memorial to my
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